


Night Visits

by Dancing_Fox



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Drunken Flirting, Drunkenness, M/M, McHanzo - Freeform, Mutual Pining, No actual sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 14:46:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11106768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancing_Fox/pseuds/Dancing_Fox
Summary: After so much time spent on the base, Jesse McCree develops a habit of sneaking into Hanzo's room on the evenings where he drinks more than he should. This is a habit that concerns Hanzo, but also one that he enjoys way more than he'll ever admit.





	Night Visits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [minghii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/minghii/gifts).



> A while back on Twitter, Minghii posted a prompt request on a fic scenario. I said I would grab it, even if someone else beat me to it first, so I know I'm not the only one to post this situation and cannot claim anything to the idea. I just put it into words!   
> Also, I'm rating this at "M" for mention of excessive alcohol consumption, implied innuendos, and potentially naughty descriptions.   
> Enjoy! 
> 
> Side note: I may add another chapter to this laaaater. We'll see. ;)

Hanzo was not what one would refer to as a “light sleeper,” but he could still be stirred from his slumber at the disruption of unusual night time noises. Because of this, it was not terribly surprising that his eyes drifted open when he heard a ‘ _whoosh’_ of the airlock door opening, combined with a jingling ‘ _thud’_ that suspiciously resembled that of which one could imagine an unbalanced cowboy landing on the floor would sound like.

He sighed silently and closed his eyes again, awaiting the inevitable. This was an incident that was becoming more and more frequent, over the last several months. The first time it had startled Hanzo to the point where he had nearly obliterated the drunken man in his sleep haze. Now, however…well, he had almost come to expect it.

The bed shook slightly from the brush of a darkness-blinded form hitting it, then there was the strange sensation of the mattress dipping from weight distribution as it clumsily climbed on.

‘ _Ridiculous cowman,’_ Hanzo thought, pretending to be asleep. The smell of stale whiskey infiltrated his nose and he scrunched it in response. As usual, Jesse was drunk. This only ever happened after his bottle binges, and while that was both concerning and somehow endearing to Hanzo, he had come to secretly look forward to it. Not that he would ever admit it out loud, of course.

Strong arms coiled themselves around his body, a broad chest pressed warmly against his back, and Hanzo’s heart lurched into his throat. He prayed that the cowboy’s drunken stupor would keep him from realizing just how intensely his pulse was pounding in his chest. It frustrated Hanzo that he allowed this to affect him in such away, to lose control over his own senses, almost as much as how _perfectly_ he fit into the other man’s arms like a matching puzzle piece jointed together. It hardly seemed fair.

 

As per usual, Jesse had fallen asleep within moments of sprawling on the comfort of the bed, snoring intrusively in Hanzo’s ear. It wasn’t only that which had kept the archer awake, though. He had stared into the darkness, just as time and time before, staring at the digital numbers on the bedside clock until they flickered to what was considered a “suitable” time to be awake. In a practiced movement, he slid his way out of the all-too cozy grasp of the cowboy and went about his usual morning routine.

Hanzo was never there when Jesse woke. He had no knowing of what the other’s reaction was to waking in Hanzo’s bed, or how he felt about his behavior. They also never spoke of it.  Other than the rather obvious avoidance of eye contact in the common areas and during practice, everything resumed between the two of them just as it normally would have.

Hanzo had become used to all this. It happened at least once or twice a month. It was due to this fact that the following evening caught him by surprise. After a long day of simulation practice and cardio exercises, he curled up happily in his bed and was border-lining on the brink of sleep.

_‘Whoosh.’_

What? Brown eyes snapped open in the dark. Was he hearing things?

Next followed another  _‘whoosh’_ of the door closing, a quiet clatter with a jangle of spurs. “Hell,” a southern drawl grumbled.

Hanzo was absolutely _not_ hearing things. His brow furrowed as he laid on his back in thought. Jesse had never showed up two nights in a row before. Was it possible that he wasn’t even intoxicated this time?

“Shit!” The familiar thud filled the room, along with the patter of a heavy boot tumbling across the floor, and Hanzo let out a slow breath. No, this was exactly like before.

Sure enough, the mattress moved and Hanzo felt a body sidling up against his own. He didn’t roll onto his side this time, however, remaining on his back. He sensed a pause from the cowboy, perhaps trying to figure out this new position of comfort. Eventually, he pressed up close against him and rested a head on his shoulder while his muscled arm wrapped around Hanzo. The archer rolled his eyes as he felt the brim of the hat bump his forehead. Of course he would remember to take off his boots, but leave the hat on to tumble around on the bed.

“Hanzooo…”

His body tensed at the sound of his name and he quickly willed it to relax before the response could be noticed. Could he have known that he was awake?

Jesse chuckled quietly and nuzzled his nose against the crook of Hanzo’s neck, an action that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end and made his cheeks redden- thank goodness for the darkness. He smelled alcohol once again, sweeter in scent this time; bourbon, perhaps? He had seen Jesse drink it like it were water in the past, something that worried him, but also a habit that he understood, given the history the cowboy had.

His unexpected guest stilled at his side and Hanzo’s eyes slid shut, assuming that he had fallen asleep. One of his arms was pinned beneath Jesse, the weight of his body cutting of circulation and making it tingle, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be bothered by it.  

He had nearly begun to doze, himself, when a pair of lips pressed themselves to his neck and his eyes jolted open again. He was about to speak, but suddenly remembered he was supposed to be asleep and pursed his mouth closed.

Jesse hummed softly to himself as he subconsciously nibbled at tender skin, his tongue playing lightly at it before sucking gently. Hanzo couldn’t help the involuntary sharp breath he inhaled, brows knitting together as the action made him quiver. His arm coiled around Jesse to hold him closer, guiltily encouraging him to continue his affections. Even in his drunken state, he seemed to understand, and proceeded to lazily ravage Hanzo’s neck in intimate bites.

A hushed sound finally mewled from Hanzo’s voice and he mentally scolded himself for it. For a moment, he suspected that it had put Jesse off because his attentions suddenly seemed to cease.

Hanzo cleared his throat quietly and whispered. “Jesse?”

A loud snore was his only response...

 

The next morning played out in the same way that the rest had. Hanzo stealthily dragged himself from Jesse’s comforting hold and went about his usual, showering quietly, then slipping out into the common area. The main difference today was the high collar athletic shirt that he wore over his neck.

Several of the others found their seats across the table from Hanzo while they had their breakfasts. Lena was chattering about something that might have been of interest to Hanzo, had he been paying attention. His mind was drifting elsewhere as his fingertips played lightly over the neck hem of his shirt. The skin was tender and purple beneath it, something that he had no urge to try to explain to anyone who might ask about it. A hint of a smile quirked the edges of his lips as the guilt poked at him. He secretly loved the marks being there. It gave him an odd sense of thrill. Plus, it was Jesse…

“Mornin’, Han.”

His stomach clenched at the recognizable voice. This was different. He never spoke directly to him after _those_ nights. Why? Why was he changing this now? “Jesse.” A small nod of acknowledgement while he stared at his plate.

_‘Leave… Go away,’_ Hanzo thought to himself as he lowered his head, cheeks pinkening. Maybe he could excuse himself before anyone noticed.

Before he could consider it further, he heard the scrape of legs on floor as Jesse pulled the chair out beside him and sat down with a cup of coffee.

“Oi! Jesse!” Lena’s voice was far too perky for this early in the morning. “Have a rough night? You looked pretty  toasted when you left last evening!”

Jesse laughed and Hanzo averted his gaze to somewhere else while the rest of them talked. This was different. Hanzo didn’t like different. He was a man of routine and schedule. Change was something that needed adapting to. All of this was something that Jesse McCree had turned upside down just from a few drunk wanderings.

He was so far lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice when his peers stood and left to go about their own daily plans, leaving him and Jesse at the table by themselves. The awkward silence was almost deafening until Jesse finally stood up, as well. “Ya’ know,” he started, picking up his mug. “Ya’ don’t always gotta’ leave before me.”

Hanzo slowly blinked and looked up from the table, his eyes daring to dart to the cowboy. “What?”

With a flash of a charming smile, Jesse tipped his hat to him. “Ya’ heard me. A little wake up conversation does a man good.”

Hanzo’s brows knit as he rolled the words around in his mind. He had no idea what the other man was implying, exactly. Change… More change. He took in a slow breath, then gracefully rose from his seat. He picked up his plate, then looked back at the cowboy, chin raised. “Then perhaps I will stay if you ever grace me with your presence for something other than an intoxicated stupor.”

The stunned expression on Jesse’s face was all too satisfying. “Wh-whassat?”

“You heard me.” Hanzo dared a small smirk, then finally looked away as he carried his plate off to the sink, leaving the bewildered cowboy where he stood. Perhaps change wasn’t so terrible, after all…


End file.
